


private relations

by thunderylee



Series: office affairs [2]
Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-29
Updated: 2012-08-29
Packaged: 2019-01-19 18:53:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12415941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Everyone thinks ‘Nisen’ are sleeping together.





	private relations

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

Honestly, after two years of working together, Senga’s surprised it hasn’t come up sooner.

“Did you know,” Nikaido says in a breeze as he sits down with his lunch, flipping his tie over his shoulder because his mother will kill him if she has to get out _another_ stain, “everyone thinks we’re sleeping together?”

Senga doesn’t even blink as he swallows his mouthful. “You don’t say.”

“Like, just because we always hang out and stuff.” Nikaido looks genuinely amazed, like they were discussing life on Mars or the next generation of genetically-engineered clones (which, for the record, they have _never_ once discussed), not the possibility of the pair of them having gay sex. “And sometimes we come into work together?”

“People who work here are strange,” Senga says, busying himself with a sip of soda to cover his amusement at making the understatement of the year. Just yesterday he’d caught that slut Fujigaya making a sales pitch under his supervisor’s desk, but he’s not about to tell Nikaido that.

The thing about Nikaido is that, while he’s competent at nearly everything that involves public relations, he’s horribly naive. Nikaido could probably walk in on Senga’s supervisor with his unflattering pre-orgasm face and his hand fisted in a head of fluffy hair that bobs up and down in his lap and think Fujigaya had just dropped his cell phone or something.

Obviously Nikaido has to be a virgin. At twenty-two. Senga pities him for it sometimes, then remembers how traumatized he himself gets on a daily basis and thinks that Nikaido’s oblivion is the better end of the deal. Though he doesn’t think he could go back to being a virgin again, even if his only experience has been with girls.

Something he’s learned working in this office is that _clearly_ he’s been missing out. At least, with as often as the other guys hook up around here, Senga would think that having gay sex brought peace to the world, or at the very least earned them a promotion. (HR’s firmly against that. It’s stated explicitly in the employee handbook.) But apparently they just do it because it feels good– and because they’re a group of decadent heathens– which just leaves Senga wondering.

Objectively, he studies Nikaido as the other man goes on about all of the things the pair of them do together that are not gay at all, like share a bed and face each other in the bath. Nikaido would be a good choice for his first male experience, Senga thinks. He’s naive, but passionate. Senga has faith that once Nikaido realizes what’s going on, he’d be really into it and excitable. And, well, he’s gorgeous, but so is everybody who works here. Senga is pretty sure that’s one of the main hiring criteria.

Nikaido has a nice mouth, too, even when it’s running non-stop. Senga bets Nikaido would be loud in bed, unabashedly telling him everything that feels good and asking for more. Thinking about that has Senga twitch a little, which makes Nikaido stop talking mid-word, and Senga’s only a little paranoid that he’s been caught perving since Nikaido wouldn’t know a leer if everyone’s eyes were locked on his junk.

“Are you okay?” Nikaido asks suddenly. “You just made a weird movement.”

Observant fucker. “Just got a chill,” Senga replies.

Anyone else in this company would have raised an eyebrow, but Nikaido just frowns. “Are you coming down with something? Kitamitsu keeps that office at igloo temperature. You’d think he’d be cold as fuck since he’s, like, five feet tall.”

Senga snorts. Making short jokes about his supervisor is one of his favorite things to do at work, and _everyone_ does it. “I know, right?”

“You should call in sick tomorrow,” Nikaido tells him, and Senga gets an idea. “I’ll call in, too, and come take care of you.”

Because that won’t be obvious at _all_. “Okay,” Senga agrees, trying to look a little miserable. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Nikaido flashes a grin. “I’ll have my mom whip up some chicken soup this afternoon. After spending a whole day in bed with me, you should be good as new.”

Senga prides himself on not banging his head on the table.

*

“I don’t feel well,” Senga says, hanging pitifully in Kitayama’s doorway. “Is it okay if I stay home tomorrow?”

“You okay?” Kitayama asks, looking up from his mountain of paperwork because sometimes he gives a shit, or more likely he just doesn’t want to take his own phone calls.

“Yeah, probably just a bug,” Senga replies. “It’s going around, you know.”

Kitayama makes a noncommittal noise. “Get some rest and feel better.”

“Thanks,” Senga replies, bidding his supervisor goodnight before meeting Nikaido at their usual spot by the water fountain. “I’ve got the day off.”

“Sweet!” Nikaido exclaims. “I told Kawai that I have something important to do tomorrow and he just nodded and waved me off. I didn’t even have to lie!”

Senga just smiles, because Nikaido thinks that taking care of him is important. “Are you staying over again, then?”

“You say that like I’m over all the time.” Nikaido laughs, and Senga just shakes his head because it’s true, even during the work week. “I’ll stop home to get the soup and then come over, okay?”

“Sure,” Senga says, and Nikaido slings an arm around him as they walk across campus, paying no mind to the other employees who smile and whisper to their colleagues about how cute of a couple ‘Nisen’ are.

Nope. Not obvious at all.

*

At twenty-one years old, Senga doesn’t really have to lie to his mom anymore, but in this instance he looks at it as protecting her from the dirty truth. And he needs to keep her from waking them up in the morning.

When he tells her that he thinks he’s getting sick and Nikaido is coming over with soup, she just blinks. “Whatever makes you happy, dear,” is all she says, and Senga retreats to his room, loosening his tie and arranging his limbs on his bed in the way that he thinks looks the sexiest.

Of course, his effort is wasted as Nikaido barrels through his door a few hours later wearing track pants and a giant T-shirt that falls off of one shoulder, his hair stuffed up in a baseball cap while carting a large, sloshing container in both hands. Senga feels guilty for a half a second, because Nikaido really does think he’s sick and went through all of this trouble for him, but then Nikaido’s muttering “You have to be burning up, let’s get you out of those hot clothes” and straddling Senga’s lap to strip him, and then the only thing Senga feels is– ironically– heat coursing all throughout his entire body.

He watches Nikaido as the other man whips off Senga’s tie and pops open the buttons on his work shirt with practiced ease. There’s nothing nervous or fumbling about his motions, and somehow that turns Senga on even more. He feels his eyelids heavy with lust as Nikaido’s fingers scatter down his chest and almost laughs. Only Nikaido Takashi would be able to seduce someone without intending to.

Senga gets a little worried when Nikaido unfastens his belt, but Nikaido probably wouldn’t think anything of it if Senga’s erection smacked him in the nose. It’s not nearly to that point yet, because Senga isn’t sixteen anymore and can control his hormones, but that doesn’t stop him from thinking about Nikaido’s face being above his crotch for reason other than pulling off his pants.

“There,” Nikaido says, crawling off of him enough to perch on the edge of his bed. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” Senga replies, narrowly avoiding making carnivore puns in his head.

All guilt aside, it’s nice to be doted on, Nikaido’s hand on the back of his head holding him up as he shovels spoonfuls of soup into Senga’s open mouth. There’s nothing graceful about it and he keeps making a mess, rushing to clean it up and Senga finds comfort in the sudden anxiety, like Nikaido’s mistake is going to make Senga develop pneumonia or something. His dedication is his most admirable feature and right now it’s focused wholly on Senga, the realization making Senga’s heart thump.

Suddenly Senga thinks he may have gotten himself in _way_ over his head here, because it’s not just about getting Nikaido into bed (well, for sexual purposes) anymore. Senga may actually be in love with the idiot.

Then a drop of warm soup hits Senga’s collarbone and this time Nikaido doesn’t bother with a towel, dipping his head to catch it with his mouth, and Senga’s eyes feel like they could pop out of his head. It’s just a brief second of Nikaido’s lips to his skin, a quick flick of his tongue to lick up the soup, but it’s enough to send Senga’s body up in flames and all he can do is gape at Nikaido as he lifts his head back up.

“Sorry, I’m bad at this,” Nikaido says, with absolutely no implication that he means anything other than feeding another person, and Senga kind of wants to just kiss him to put them both out of their misery. “Are you still hot?”

“You have no idea,” Senga answers, his voice lower than normal.

Nikaido frowns sympathetically. “Giving you soup probably wasn’t the best idea, huh?”

“It was delicious,” Senga tells him, reaching for his hand as he pulls it away, and Nikaido gradually looks less disappointed in himself as they lace their fingers together.

“Are you tired now?” Nikaido asks, and Senga realizes that’s what he thinks Senga’s heavy eyelids are for. “Shall we take a nap?”

_We_. “Yeah,” Senga answers, nodding and starting to slip under the covers until Nikaido halts him and takes over. He ends up tangling Senga’s legs in the sheets and losing half of the covers, but Senga hasn’t been tucked in since he was a child and whatever these feelings are that have been developing all evening just soar even more at the gesture.

Nikaido gets in next to him and a chill courses up Senga’s spine when their arms bump. Naturally Nikaido notices that and looks at him in concern. “Cold now?”

Senga nods, then remembers that Nikaido can’t see him in the dark and turns to face him, but Nikaido’s already reached for him. He settles neatly in Nikaido’s arms, breathing in his faint cologne mixed with whatever fabric softener his mom uses, and shivers even more.

“Okay, okay,” Nikaido’s saying, speaking entirely too close to Senga’s ear and Senga squirms in his hold. “God, Kenpi, this is really progressing quickly.”

Senga wishes it would progress quicker. He may be able to control himself, but he is only a man and being this close is driving him crazy. He fists Nikaido’s shirt without meaning to, though he’s sure Nikaido just takes it as a testament to how awful he feels. “I need to tell you something,” he finds himself saying.

“Mm?” Nikaido asks, not even pulling back as he clutches onto Senga like he’s a human body pillow under the pretense of sharing his body heat.

“I’m not sick.”

Nikaido doesn’t say anything at first, and when he does, Senga thinks he had to have misheard. “I know.”

It’s Senga who pulls back, enough to stare incredulously at Nikaido, who looks the same as he always does. “You do?”

Now Nikaido smiles, and Senga’s even more confused. “I do. You’re much crabbier when you’re sick.”

“Then why are you here?” Senga asks, wondering if Nikaido can hear his heart pounding in his chest.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Nikaido answers, ironically. “You want me here. Though I’m not sure why, so you tell me.”

“I…” Senga starts, and Nikaido looks at him expectantly. There’s nothing pointed or knowing in his stare, and now Senga really feels bad for lying. He needs to tell the truth now, as humiliating as it is. “I just want to be close to you.”

He lowers his eyes in shame, so Nikaido’s responding squeeze around his waist surprises him. “That’s it? You don’t have to lie to be like this with me, Kenpi. I don’t mind at all.”

Senga sucks his lips into his mouth as he mulls over his options. He could leave things as they are and just enjoy the warmth and comfort of Nikaido’s embrace, or he can go for it. Before he can make up his mind, his mouth is already running. “Not close enough.”

“No?” Nikaido looks confused, as he should, since they can’t get much closer than they are already. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Of course he doesn’t. “Never mind,” Senga mutters.

“No,” Nikaido says again, this time with certainty, and Senga recognizes that determination in Nikaido’s eyes. “Tell me what you mean. Or show me. Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”

“Show you…” Senga repeats, melting at the way Nikaido blinks innocently at him, his lips slightly parted and awfully inviting. “Okay.”

With courage he didn’t know he had, Senga closes the minimal distance between them and presses their lips together, sliding his arms up around Nikaido’s neck on impulse. To his surprise, Nikaido kisses back instantly, with the force of an army as he tightens his embrace, and Senga’s so relieved that he wants to cry.

He has so many questions, but he’s not about to stop and ask them. Nikaido’s mouth is hot against his and it’s actually Nikaido who deepens the kiss, licking between Senga’s lips until they open and Senga loses his mind a little. He registers the soft mattress against his back as Nikaido’s body weighs him down, stretching out on top of him as his big hands start to run all over his chest.

Senga’s brain catches up with him and he can’t believe what’s happening right now. He arches as Nikaido rocks against him, grinding something hard into his hip and Senga follows so fast that he can almost feel the blood draining from his head as it relocates south. He moans into Nikaido’s mouth at the friction and one of Nikaido’s hands lower to Senga’s waist, dipping under the elastic band of his boxers.

Then Senga has to harshly break their kiss to throw his head back, gasping for air in addition to reacting to Nikaido’s fingers wrapping around his cock. He expects everything to stop now that they’re not kissing anymore, but Nikaido’s mouth just drops to Senga’s neck and now Senga’s leaning back to give him more access.

“Nika,” he says, not sure whether he’s questioning or consenting or just saying the other man’s name because it feels good.

“So long,” Nikaido hisses against his skin, and Senga makes a confused noise. “I thought you were never going to notice me.”

Senga pauses at that, his heart aching as he replays the past two years in his head. “You liked me? This whole time?”

Nikaido’s laugh shakes both of their bodies, and he’s grinning when Senga drags his eyes open to look at him. “Everyone said I was being incredibly obvious, but you still didn’t seem to be interested, so I was about to give up.”

“I…” Senga can’t talk around his heart in his throat, nor does he know what he would say if he could, so he just pulls Nikaido back into his mouth and tries to explain it to him that way. Nikaido squeezes his cock in response and swallows Senga’s moan as Senga remembers that he also has hands and awkwardly shoves one of them into Nikaido’s track pants.

Nikaido’s groan tickles his tongue and Senga loves the way it feels, both in his mouth and in his hand as Nikaido pushes through his fingers and Senga thinks about feeling that elsewhere on his body. His blood runs hot and cold at the same time, making him feel like he really is sick or at least dizzy as he considers letting someone inside him for the first time ever. Thinking about Nikaido like that before, Senga was the one on top, but now that it’s happening for real Senga wants it the other way.

He wraps his legs around Nikaido’s and Nikaido’s next noise has definition, his lips falling from Senga’s mouth and dragging up his jaw to his ear. “Are you sure?”

Senga nods. “Unless you don’t want to–”

“Shut up, of course I want to,” Nikaido cuts him off, whining a little as he pulls out of Senga’s grasp and rolls across the bed to grab his overnight bag. “I’ve wanted to for a really long time.”

“I completely underestimated you,” Senga says the second he realizes it, shaking his head at the incredulity of it all. “Nika, I thought you were a _virgin_.”

Nikaido laughs so hard that he loses his balance, banging his head on Senga’s shoulder but he doesn’t stop, not even when he rolls back on top of Senga, settling more purposefully between his legs as he gently tugs down Senga’s boxers. “You’re cute.”

Then Nikaido’s touching him _there_ and there’s nothing innocent about it, pulling such a loud moan from Senga’s lungs that Nikaido fuses their mouths together again to muffle it. He’s stroking Senga’s cock while stretching him and the combination has Senga arching, falling apart underneath Nikaido and he has to grab Nikaido’s wrist to stop touching him before this ends entirely too soon.

“Next time,” Nikaido whispers, and Senga’s already nodding before he finishes, “I want us to be somewhere where I can hear you scream.”

“I have a key to Kitamitsu’s apartment,” Senga gasps out. “He’s rarely there, and never during the day. We could go at lunch.”

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Nikaido hisses, twisting his long fingers as he slips in a third and Senga feels him so deep that his hips push back on impulse. “ _You_ are hot. I want you so bad.”

“Take me,” Senga replies automatically, and it may just be the filthiest thing he’s ever said in his life, made even worse by the way his thighs are spread and body rolls wholly by Nikaido’s command. He has to be a sight right now, his hair splayed all over his pillow with his eyes barely open, and Nikaido looks at him like he’s something ephemeral.

Senga bites his lip as he hears Nikaido roll on a condom and watches his face as he uses more lube on himself. Then they’re nose to nose, Nikaido slowly pushing Senga’s knees to his chest, and dry fingers gently push Senga’s hair out of his face. “Relax, okay?”

“Okay,” Senga breathes, doing his best to calm his pounding heart as he feels Nikaido start to push in. The initial penetration leaves him gasping, but then Nikaido’s filling him and all Senga wants is for him to move. He pauses for entirely too long once he’s all the way in, leading Senga to claw at his back desperately for more.

“Fuck, Kenpi,” Nikaido groans, and Senga’s body reacts by snapping his hips upward, pulling an even deeper noise from Nikaido’s throat as he gives Senga a small thrust. Even the small amount of pressure is enough to have Senga arching, swallowing back his moans and pushing back as much as he can until Nikaido’s rocking into him faster, harder, deeper.

“Nika,” Senga gasps, unable to do anything but squeeze Nikaido’s shoulder blades as Nikaido moves in and out of him. “It’s good.”

Nikaido just moans, burying his face into Senga’s collarbone to keep his noises from being heard, and Senga thinks it’s more difficult for Nikaido to be quiet than Senga himself. Kissing him seems like the best way to shut them both up, except that Nikaido growls and fucks him harder the second Senga fists his hair to bring him back up to his mouth. It’s breathy and sloppy but they manage, at least until Nikaido reaches down to pull off Senga, who has to throw his head back and shove his arm into his mouth as he comes hard over Nikaido’s fingers onto his own stomach.

His bed starts to shake from the force of Nikaido’s thrusts until there’s a soft moan of Senga’s first name and Nikaido falls still. Senga can feel Nikaido’s cock twitch inside him and it’s so surreal, his arms wrapping around Nikaido to hold him close as they both tremble, their heartbeats racing with each desperate gasp for air.

“Wow,” Senga says, and Nikaido looks smug as he leans up on his elbows. “I really have been missing out.”

He winces a little as Nikaido pulls out, but then a strong hand is rubbing his strained thighs as he stretches out his legs. “You may be sore,” he says apologetically. “I meant to do it slow, but well, it didn’t happen that way.”

“I liked it,” Senga tells him, his face heating up at the admission, but Nikaido just smiles as he curls up to Senga’s side and flings an arm across his still heaving chest. “I have all of tomorrow to recover, anyway.”

“If I let you recover,” Nikaido mutters, and Senga laughs as he leans over for a kiss.

*

“Senga-kun, my office, please.”

Senga swallows hard as he puts his lunch on his desk and steps through the door to his supervisor’s office. He tries not to laugh at the SHORT IS BEAUTIFUL sign _still_ stuck on his bulletin board, now with hot pink cut-out hearts on it, but he’s fairly certain he fails.

“Were you really sick yesterday?” Kitayama asks.

“Yes,” Senga answers. “I couldn’t get out of bed.”

That’s true, he thinks with a smirk, but Kitayama narrows his eyes. “Just because I don’t care doesn’t mean that I’m stupid. Kawai told me that Nikaido was out, too, and everyone knows you two are sleeping together.”

“Actually–” Senga starts, but Kitayama halts him with a hand.

“I hate taking my own calls, Senga-kun, that’s why you work here.” Kitayama messes with his tie as he stares at his desk. “I didn’t say this to you, but just do it here like everyone else, okay?”

Senga raises his eyebrows. “Seriously?”

“I said nothing.” Kitayama sits back in his chair and flips through his papers. “Please arrange my meetings for today since I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Shall I arrange for lunch with Taipi too?” Senga can’t help but ask.

Kitayama’s glare has him stepping out of the office. He puts his lunch in the fridge, fist-bumps with Fujigaya and Miyata, and returns to his desk. It only takes ten minutes to put Kitayama’s business in order, then he works hard drinking coffee and scrolling through Tumblr until the phone rings. “Marketing department, Kitayama-san’s office,” he answers, using his professional phone voice.

“Did you get in trouble?” Nikaido asks, and Senga relaxes.

“Not really,” Senga says, cradling the phone on his shoulder so he can use both hands to type his reblog tags. “He just said I should screw around here like everyone else.”

Nikaido laughs. “Kawai practically threw me a party this morning. We have donuts if you want to swing by.”

“I probably shouldn’t,” Senga says apologetically. “Kitamitsu doesn’t like to take his own calls.”

“I don’t blame him,” Nikaido replies. “You have a really nice phone voice.”

“Do I?” Senga asks, smirking as he looks around him to see no one in listening distance. “Are you thinking about me using this voice when you’re inside me?”

Nikaido makes an unattractive squawking noise. “Jesus, Kenpi.”

“Or maybe we can just do it like this– how many people can see under your desk?” Senga’s speaking more quietly now, hissing into the mouthpiece.

“Oh my god, stop it,” Nikaido says. “My face is bright red.”

“Cute,” Senga replies. “Since I’m a good employee who listens to his supervisor, come by around two p.m., okay?”

“What? Why?” Nikaido still sounds flustered.

Senga grins. “I scheduled his meetings all back to back this afternoon so we can use his office.”


End file.
